


Felicidad no Realidad

by cortexikid



Series: Schneider’s Choice [6]
Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: Anxiety, Avery or the Alvarezes, Depression, F/M, He and Penelope deal with the aftermath, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Schneider gets an ultimatum, and begin to figure some things out along the way, it’s a no brainer, oblivious Penelope, oblivious Schneider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 09:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20618669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortexikid/pseuds/cortexikid
Summary: “You’re my best friend, Schneider, but sometimes? Sometimes you’re so much more. And that…scares me.”More didn’t even begin to describe it, really. It was a vague word, no where near adequate enough to fully encapsulate all that Patrick Dwayne Schneider was to her family, to her. It was a confusing word, in that it seemed to suggest something else, something different, something that Penelope knew eluded her at times. It was evasive and unrelenting, but nonetheless true.So she told him. She stood there, an absolute mess, inside and out, and told him something that she shouldn’t have. Something that she didn’t fully understand herself. Something that had the power to potentially irreparably change their dynamic, forever. And there was no taking it back now.





	Felicidad no Realidad

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Sorry for the delay in this, it’s really getting away from me. Again, I’m kicking myself I didn’t just make it one multi chapter story instead of a series, but here we are. Enjoy!

* * *

“Lupita?”

Her eyes shot away from the front door at the sound of her mother’s voice.

“Where did Schneider go?”

Penelope sighed, running a hand through her hair, “Home, I guess.”

Lydia nodded, frown marring her face, her eyes forlorn.

“Mijo just can’t catch a break.”

_ Ain’t that the truth. _

“I will go check on him,” her mother said with a determined glint in her eye, moving towards the door.

“No, Mami,” Penelope shuffled to the side, blocking her path.

Lydia held up her hands, frustrated, looking to the ceiling, or divinity for guidance, who knew.

“I am a _ failure _. I have failed eSchneider and brought great shame on this family.”

Penelope threw her a perplexed look, “Okay, Don Corleone, what are you talking about?”

Lydia sighed dramatically, her personal favourite type of sigh, “My _ bouquet list _, Lupita. Finding Schneider his perfect match. I thought I had crossed it off with Avery, but…no. No perfect match would ever make him choose between them and his familia.”

Penelope blinked.

“We don’t know if it’s over yet, Mami. I mean…we didn’t hear what he chos—”

“He chose _ us, _Lupe. It is _ over.”_

Her tone was firm, unshakable. Penelope knew that her surety was predominantly based on faith, rather than her mother’s secret sonar-like hearing. Penelope found her gaze glued to the door once more, worry gnawing at her nervous system.

“I will go make some calls,” Lydia was saying from somewhere behind her, her voice sounding to Penelope as if she was submerged in water, “I am sure we can find our little chulo a nice Latina who understands the importance of family. He cannot go wrong then, I am sure!”

She punctuated her point with a clap of her hands that wrenched Penelope from her reverie with a start.

Hurriedly, Lydia snatched up her cell phone from the couch and stormed behind her drapes before her daughter could summon any protest, not that she was able to make one in that moment, her mind too focussed on what could be occurring downstairs.

She was outside his door before her brain could catch up with her. She lingered for five full minutes before she shook herself, reaching up her hand to knock. It was time to put on her best friend hat. God knows Schneider had been there for her time and time again whenever she needed him.

Whatever happened next, they would face it – together.

~*~

When she had first walked in and seen that glass tumbler in his hand, her heart stopped.

_ No, god. Please, no. _

When she noticed it was empty, nothing but the remnants of ice pooling in the bottom, she swallowed down the urge to smack it out of his hand.

But he hadn’t had a drink. She knew the truth when she heard it.

She also knew sorrow when she saw it.

Schneider was falling apart at the seams and all her brand of sewing in the world (namely chats, coffee and cookies) couldn’t fully stop it from happening. But she tried anyway. Because that's what best friends did. And Penelope Alvarez was determined to be the best damn friend Patrick Schneider had ever had.

Especially after he chose their family over his relationship.

Nothing could quite quell the guilt she felt at that. No matter how much Schneider no doubt would try his darndest to get her to see it from his perspective. But now wasn’t the time to start that argument.

Speaking to Nick had clearly taken a lot out of him. No way he would have fallen asleep during the opening credits of _ Selena _ otherwise. She glanced towards him, just as J-Lo looked over her shoulder before transitioning into the real footage of Selena walking out on stage, to find him fast asleep, mouth hanging slightly open, glasses slightly askew.

A small smile spread across her face as she carefully reached out and gently removed his glasses, folding and placing them down onto the coffee table. It was but a split second after doing this, that her brain caught up with her and she began mentally berating herself.

_ You should just wake him up, Alvarez. The couch can’t be comfortable. You should go. Leave him to sleep in his own bed. Dios mio. _

She found herself ignoring her inner voice however, as her eyes travelled back over to her sleeping neighbour. He looked so…peaceful. Relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen him since—well. A long, long time. She hated the idea of disturbing that, especially after the day he’d had.

_ He and Avery broke up. _

Penelope cringed, trying to focus back on the movie.

_ They broke up because he refused to spend less time with Mami. _

_ With the kids. _

_ With you. _

Her cringe was a full-blown wince by now.

Schneider shifted slightly in his sleep, snapping her out of her reverie. Her eyes lingered on him a little, registering what was the matter.

_ He’s cold. _

She wasn’t entirely sure how she knew that, but before Penelope could talk herself out of it, she quickly and quietly got up off the couch and tiptoed over to the square armchair that she secretly dubbed the ‘ugly-ass-armchair’ in her head and nabbed the blue blanket that her Mami had knitted for Schneider on his last birthday.

As she crept back to the couch, she clutched it in her hands, marvelling at how soft it felt. Slowly, she reached down to drape it over him—

_ Buuuuzzzzzzz! _

All the army training in the world couldn’t prevent her from leaping three feet in the air in fright, her cell phone vibrating loudly in her pocket. With wide eyes, she looked down at Schneider, relieved to find him still fast asleep. Shifting the blanket to one arm, she hurriedly shoved her hand into her pocket, taking out the offending phone that was flashing with an alert of ‘1 New Message.’

_ Como esta mi conejito? _

Penelope rolled her eyes to the ceiling, typing back:

_ Really Mami? Your bunny? You gotta stop with the cutesy nicknames. And he’s fine. He fell asleep watching TV. I’m gonna wake him up now and head back upstairs. _

The weight of the blanket on her arm begged to differ, but her mother didn’t need to know that.

The reply was shockingly fast.

_ ¡Do not wake him, Lupe! I’ll lock up. Buenos noches. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo _

Penelope gaped at her phone, reading and re-reading the text several times. Lydia didn’t expect her to come home tonight.

_ Am I a bad friend if I go home tonight? _

She shook her head, not entertaining her inner voice anymore, shoving her phone back in her pocket and leaning down to finally drape the blanket over her friend. He didn’t move an inch, still slumbering on, undisturbed. Slowly, Penelope lowered herself back down onto the couch, cursing the day Alex ever taught her mother to use a smartphone.

She could stay until the end of the movie. That seemed reasonable, right? It also gave Schneider a decent amount of time to nap before she unceremoniously woke him and—

Her keys were upstairs. Her Mami was literally locking her out of her apartment right this second.

Letting out a quiet sigh, she reached down to grab the remote, lowering the volume on the TV and resigning herself to her fate. She’d just watch a little bit more of the movie, not the full thing, before waking Schneider up, letting him go to bed and spending the night on the couch.

She had slept in a hell of a lot worse places than a millionaire’s ridiculously expensive sofa, after all. Shrugging her shoulders, she gently curled her legs up aside her, suppressing a shiver as the chill in the room began to surround her. She eyed the edge of the blue blanket that sat between herself and Schneider.

He surely wouldn’t mind sharing for a few minutes. Not that he’d know.

Before she could think better of it, she picked up the small section of blanket and dropped it onto her midriff, leaning only slightly into Schneider, their shoulders not quite touching, before she took up the remote and lowered the volume even further, opting to turn on the subtitles instead.

Yeah. She’d watch a few minutes of _ Selena _ before waking Schneider. It wasn’t fair to wake him so soon.

Just a few minutes was fine.

Ten or so.

Twenty, tops.

~*~

Penelope was warm.

That was her first thought.

There was an arm around her shoulders, was her second.

Her face was pressed into something that was moving, was her third.

Moving up and down as if…breathing.

She stilled, the previous night coming back to her all at once. Wrinkling her nose, she tried to think about what to do next, trying to figure out a way to disentangle herself (when the hell had she laid her hand on his hip?!) without waking Schneider.

The shoulder underneath her cheek suddenly froze.

_ He’s awake. _

Her heart started up a crescendo in her chest.

_ Okay, play it cool, Alvarez. _

“You know it’s creepy to stare at people as they sleep, right?” she murmured, forcing her voice to stay level.

He let out a puff of breath, as if he had been holding it.

“You know it’s creepy to pretend to be asleep while trapping people who need to pee, right?”

She sat up abruptly, mortified at having fallen asleep on him in the first place, let alone practically holding him hostage all night. God knows how long he had been dying to use the bathroom.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly, edging away from him, knocking his arm from around her shoulders.

Her face was on fire and she hated herself for it.

She was an adult. _ They _ were adults, damn it. This shouldn’t be so…embarrassing. It wasn’t like she was some teen with a crush who—

Nope. Wasn’t like that at all. She was being ridiculous.

“…to prevent you from using me as your own personal cuddle toy?” Schneider was in the middle of saying when she tuned back in.

“I mean, I’m just shocked really that you’ve managed to hide this from me for so long. Who knew that Penelope Alvarez, self-proclaimed badass, was also a secret snuggler? I feel like I’ve uncovered the Lost City of Atlantis type of secret.”

She glared her best glare. Anything to abate the blush dominating her face.

She couldn’t tell if she was successful or not.

“I thought you needed to pee?”

His smirk was downright smug, “And I thought you were all hard shell. Who knew underneath that tough exterior, there were gooey insides just waiting—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll show you exactly how gooey _ your _ insides are.”

“By making them my outsides?”

“Yep.”

It was so easy to slip into their well-versed banter. They had been doing it for years, pushing each other’s buttons, winding each other up in a way that only best friends could. It relaxed Penelope, made her almost stop spiralling at the thought that she had spent the night—

(Wrong choice of words.)

That she had _ accidentally fallen asleep _—

(That was better.)

—with Schneider.

She had had every intention of waking him up so he didn’t have a dreadful night’s sleep. Although, as she eyed him practically bounce up off the couch, a definite spring in his step, she had to admit that it didn’t seem like he had had a bad sleep at all.

Neither did she, if she was honest with herself.

_ It’s the expensive couch _, her mind supplied her helpfully.

Uh huh. It was definitely the expensive, surprisingly comfortable couch that let her sleep like a baby, undisturbed, for the first time she could remember.

“My porcelain throne awaits,” Schneider continued airily, stepping around the couch in question.

“Whatever Cersei,” she replied before glancing down, realising her blouse was a bit dishevelled and hurried to fix it, her cheeks burning hotter.

“Hurry up and get dressed. Mami’s bacon is calling,” she called after him absentmindedly, fighting with the material of her top.

A short silence followed her words.

He mustn’t have heard her.

“Uh, does Lydia know you’ve been here all night?”

His voice sounded…weird. Off. Very un-Schneider-like.

Penelope turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder, eyes meeting the back of his head.

Biting the bullet, she forced out the circumstances which led them both here, in this awkward-but-not-as-awkward-as-it-should-be situation:

“She texted when you dozed off during the opening credits of _ Selena _. I told her I’d make sure you were okay before heading back,” she cleared her throat, shifting again as she admitted, “I…didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Another beat of silence followed before he chuckled, his back still turned, ““Damn. Can’t believe I missed J-Lo's breakout role.”

It may have sounded like one of his snappy one-liners, but Penelope knew better. In that short sentence, as he had digested what she said, he was telling her thanks. Thanks for staying. Thanks for the coffee, cookies and chat when I needed it. Thanks for the blanket and taking off my glasses and turning down the volume on the TV. Thanks for being there for me when I needed you.

Thanks for being my best friend.

“I can’t believe that _ that _ was the J-Lo movie you chose. I totally had you down as a _ Gigli _ fan.”

It may have sounded like one of her witty retorts. But Schneider knew better. She was telling him – any time, bestie. I’m always here for you.

And she was.

~*~

As weeks bled into months, Penelope gladly saw an uptick in Schneider’s mood. He was taking it one day at a time, picking up new hobbies - baking with Mami, carpentry with Elena and vlogging with Alex. Penelope still wasn’t sure what exactly their ‘vlog’ was, or why Schneider and Alex were so intense about it, but it was nice to see them bonding over even more things.

As for him and Penelope, they still had their bestie activities, but in recent weeks, something else was added to their routine. 

Schneider picking her up and dropping her off at therapy. 

It all started when Elena needed the car. 

She slid into the passenger seat of Schneider’s sweet SUV, sweeping her hair up into a bun.

“Thanks for this, Schneider. I don’t know how much longer I could have taken of Elena’s lost puppy act.”

He snorted, waving a hand as he turned the key in the ignition, “No problemo, mi amigo. I’ve lost count how many times you’ve brought me to a meeting. What did Elena need the car for anyway?”

Penelope laughed, “Something about wooing Syd for their birthday. I would have been a monster who hates love if I said no.”

Schneider chuckled, “Oh no, we couldn’t have that.”

“Exactly,” she rolled her eyes, “Who am I to stand in the way of romantic expression.”

Schneider laughed loudly as they merged with traffic, Penelope leaning over to flick through his radio stations. 

_ When everything is wrong I'll come talk to you _

_ You make things alright when I'm feeling blue _

_ You are such a blessing and I won't be messing _

_ With the one thing that brings light to all of my dark— _

“Hey! That’s a good song,” Schneider threw her a quick glance of betrayal accompanied by a half-hearted bat at her hand that was still switching stations with fearless abandon. 

_ I might take a fall again _

_ But you're my everlasting frien— _

“Pen.”

_ We love a lot _

_ We're just friends _

_ Simple as that _

_ I don't want it to end _

_ But I'm falling in— _

“Pen!”

_ I've been around you _

_ A thousand times before _

_ And you've always been a friend to me _

_ But now I'm wanting mor— _

“God, these all suck,” she mumbled to herself, her heart racing in her chest inexplicably as she fumbled to turn off the annoying noise that constituted music apparently, “Where’s Toni?”

“Braxton?!” Schneider exclaimed with unjust disdain, considering the garbage he listened to. 

“You know it’s my _ jam _, Schneider,” she remarked as she rummaged in the glove compartment for CDs that definitely would not be there considering it wasn’t 1997 and Schneider had a Spotify account and WiFi in his very expensive car. 

“Here,” He placated to her with less reluctance than she expected, handing his phone over as he kept his eyes firmly on the road. 

“The code is—”

But Penelope had already deftly entered said code and began typing the familiar song into the search bar, surprised to find it already in his saved list. 

“Care to tell me how you know the passcode to my phone?” He asked just as the opening bars of the 1996 classic filled the car. 

“Don’t leave me in all this pain, don’t leave me out in the rain…” she sang back in reply, her signature hand motions in full swing, clenched fists punctuating the lyrics with an almost violent passion. 

She could feel Schneider rolling his eyes at her, but she didn’t care, continuing to belt out her girl Toni to the best of her limited ability:

“Un-break my heart, say you'll love me again, undo this hurt you caused, when you walked out the door, and walked out of my life—”

“You okay, Pen?” 

His voice was quiet, something she could have easily ignored over the music. She thought he may have intended it that way, just in case she didn’t want to respond. 

She didn’t want to respond. 

She’d been having just one of those days, she supposed. 

Shrugging, she continued to hum along, quieter this time, staring out of the window. 

Schneider, the best friend that he was, read her mood, and thankfully left it there, instead tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and crooning in his off-key, cheesy white-boy way: 

“I can't forget the day you left, time is so unkind, and life is so cruel without you here beside me— Un-break my heart, say you'll love me again…”

A laugh erupted from Penelope’s throat, which had tightened a little since she had gotten into the car. 

It was just one of those days. 

“Undo this hurt you caused,” she began to sing with him, their voices surprisingly complementary in their mutual awfulness. 

Before she knew it, Schneider was pulling up at her stop and Toni was on her last heart-breaking verse of her fourth most popular song on the music app. 

“Thanks Schneider,” Penelope mumbled as she opened the door, hoping he knew that she meant for more than the ride. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back in a way that told her that he did, “Pick you up in an hour?”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping out into the night air, shutting the door behind her and casting a glance over her shoulder. There Schneider sat, in his ridiculously shiny car, hand raised in a half-wave, small, supportive smile on his face like he knew just what was going on with her. 

But he didn’t, she reassured herself as she waved him off and made the walk inside.

He didn’t know. She never told him. 

It was her wedding anniversary today.

Her 20th wedding anniversary. 

And she spent it doing paperwork, cooking dinner and going to a support group.

All while her ex-husband had a normal day with his new wife as _ their _ anniversary was a different day and...still celebrated. 

And then there was the dream. 

She shook her head, refusing to think about it as she entered the familiar room and made a beeline for the coffee machine. She needed the extra caffeine to get through this meeting. 

It was a normal group session, which was to say that it was filled with zany anecdotes, jokes and somber revelations, just like always, but Penelope knew she was being quieter than usual, something that the rest of the ladies noticed too. 

“We haven’t heard from you yet, Penelope,” Pam spoke up as if reading her mind, “how are you coping with your anxi—”

“I had a dream about Schneider.”

It wasn’t what she intended to say. She thought she wanted to talk about Victor, about the twentieth anniversary that never was, but no. Instead, what had really plagued her mind all day as she did paperwork, made dinner, and tried to listen in group, was the fact that this morning, on the day of her should-have-been milestone with her should-have-been husband, she woke up from a startlingly-real dream where she and Schneider were hanging out in her apartment. 

“...Hanging out in your apartment?” Pam asked slowly, clearly confused at Penelope’s recap and rising concerns. 

“Damn, I thought this was gonna be a sex dream,” Ramona tsked, folding her arms. 

“Me too,” Jill and Cynthia agreed in unison as Penelope raised her eyebrows at them. 

“What? No. Gross, don’t—no. It was nothing like that.”

A murmur broke out between the women that she caught snippets of.

“Mine would be. With that Canadian ass—”

“Like we’re supposed to believe you two aren’t knocking—”

“Can guarantee _ his _ dreams are—”

“Ladies, ladies,” Pam’s voice called out over all of them, effectively quietening them before she leaned forward, and catching Penelope’s eye, “What _ was _ it like, Penelope?”

She shifted in her seat, not wholly comfortable with the spotlight on her, although she knew the group would probably disagree with her. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, swallowing down the urge to fold her arms, knowing how, that would come across, “it was just a dream about us hanging out alone in my apartment. The kids were—I could tell that Elena had gone off to college and Alex was, I don’t know, out somewhere, and Mami—who knows where she was but, it was just me and Schneider sitting on the couch, watching TV like we do now, but…”

Her throat tightened, a surge of irritation rising it as she grew annoyed with herself. The dream was so innocuous, boring even, she had no idea why she felt so...uneasy about it. 

"But…?" Pam coaxed gently. 

Penelope took a deep breath, hunching up her shoulders, “But I felt...happy.”

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? 

She had accepted and embraced her life, her career, everything, at Victor’s wedding with her Papi’s guidance. She felt content in herself, confident in her singledom, perfectly at peace with how her life had turned out. 

She just couldn’t figure out if her subconscious was also telling her that or not. 

Jill caught her eye from across the semi-circle. 

“And you didn’t like that you felt happy? Or you did, and it freaked you out?”

Jill was the kinda friend that Penelope really appreciated. She was a straight talker, no bullshit, up front in a way that she wished more people would be. But at times like this, she found that that approach wasn’t always something she could reciprocate. 

“I don’t know.”

She did know. She just couldn’t think about what it could mean. 

“You two have been spending more time together, right?” Pam inquired, leaning her clipboard on her knee. 

Penelope nodded, “Yeah, sure. He—he and his girlfriend broke up a while back and—”

“The same girlfriend that made you feel like you couldn’t come to Schneider anymore?” Jill interjected with a tilt of her head. 

Penelope’s eyes narrowed at her friend, “_ Avery _ didn’t make me feel like that, Jill. I felt like that all on my own.”

Jill merely quirked an eyebrow.

“And why do you think that is, Penelope?”

She turned back to Pam, who was looking at her with an indistinguishable expression on her face. 

She threw up her hands, “Because we already take up so much of his time. Mami, the kids. Me. He barely has a life outside of us. And I thought that me coming to him in the middle of the night all covered in snot, might be a step too far for any girlfriend to handle. Best friend duty only goes so far.”

_ And Schneider’s further than most. _

A silence fell on the group, not pushing any further. Something she was grateful for. 

She still thought about it as she walked out into the parking lot ten minutes later, not surprised in the slightest to find Schneider already waiting for her. 

“Hey,” he greeted with a small smile as she opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. 

“Hey,” she echoed, but noticed that he was looking at something over her shoulder, a crease between his eyebrows. 

She glanced out the window to see Jill, Ramona and Cynthia huddled together, unabashedly watching them, a mix of various expressions on their faces. 

“_ Goodbye _,” Penelope called pointedly and Schneider chuckled, giving them a wave that the three of them returned—Jill normally, Ramona reluctantly, and Cynthia enthusiastically. 

Penelope shook her head, cheeks flushing, as they pulled away and merged with traffic. She clenched and unclenched her fists, reaching out to begin fiddling with the radio again. 

_ They think we're lovers kept under covers _

_ I just ignore it, but they keep saying _

_ We laugh just a little too loud _

_ We stand just a little too close _

_ We stare just a little too long _

_ Maybe they're seeing something— _

She jabbed the off button with a sharp exhale. 

_ ¡Coño! _

“Not a country music fan, Pen? I’m shocked,” Schneider joked as he handed over his phone once again.

She took it gently, punching in the familiar code, surprised that the phone unlocked. 

“Huh, I thought you would have changed it,” she remarked quietly, almost to herself, as she pulled up the app. 

She saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye as she scrolled over all his hipster nonsense. 

“Nah, no point. You know all my deepest, darkest secrets already.”

It was said as a joke, they both knew that. But as Penelope sat there, in their comfortable silence, driving home, she couldn’t help but reflect on just how right he was. 

They knew each other inside and out. 

Maybe that’s what the dream was telling her. 

That she was already living her best life. That she didn’t need a romantic relationship to feel fulfilled because once she had her family, career, and her best friend by her side, she was doing alright. 

Or it was proof of her wildly unimaginative subconscious.

Or maybe it meant something else entirely. 

Where was her Papi when she needed him, huh?

~*~

After their failed attempt at watching _ Selena _ , Penelope took it upon herself to ensure that Schneider got a decent education in bad-good-bad movies. They tended to take it week by week, a good movie, then bad, then so bad it’s good, and so on. This week, on ‘good’, she intended to make him watch _ A League Of Their Own _\- because frankly, it was a crime he had never seen it.

And Penelope loved baseball.

Which was where she found herself on Saturday morning, flanked by her family as she dolled out her homemade snacks, waiting on the edge of her seat for her baby boy to step up to the plate. She passed the tupperware container to her best friend, who had been oddly quiet since they sat back down. 

She had caught him at the concession stand a few minutes ago, ready to ream him for buying that overpriced crap when she had perfectly good, (free) food back at their seats, when she realised he wasn’t alone. There was a tall, blond man talking animatedly at Schneider as he nodded slowly, his eyes darting around, not quite meeting the other man’s gaze.

As Penelope drew nearer, she noted the line of tension in his shoulders, the tightness of his jaw, and was overcome with the need to _ protect _. 

Without allowing herself time to think it through, she swooped in, coming to a halt at Schneider’s side, their hands almost brushing as she smiled up at him in what she hoped was a reassuring way. If how his entire body relaxed, an answering smile crossing his face was anything to go by, she’d say it was.

“There you are! You’re not tryin’ to sneak-buy that gross toffee-popcorn, are you?” 

His smile grew larger as he shook his head, “Wouldn’t dream of it. With your mom’s yuca chips up for grabs? Not a chance.”

Before she could retort, he gestured at the man standing in front of them, who was glancing between them with an indistinguishable expression on his blandly attractive face.

“Luke, this is Penelope. Pen, this is Luke, an old gym buddy of mine.” 

If Penelope didn’t know Schneider as well as she did, she wouldn’t have detected the discomfort and disdain in his tone. But as it was, he was her best friend, and she could hear him loud and clear underneath the faux-politeness.

_ Once a Canadian... _

Luke clearly didn’t hear a thing however, merely leaping forward, eagerly holding out his hand for Penelope to shake, his carob eyes raking appreciatively over every inch of her.

She fought a wince, grimace and scowl all at once, squeezing his hand extra hard for good measure. The pinched look on his face as he withdrew his hand made her swallow down an uncharacteristic giggle.

_ Jamonero. _

“Whoa, finally got yourself a girl, dumbbell?” 

Penelope met Schneider’s widened gaze, her eyebrows furrowing.

_ Dumbbell? _

“Oh! No, no, Pen is just a friend of mine. Best friend. I’m uh...still flying solo.” 

Penelope’s stomach twisted a little, but she ignored it. Must have been her Mami’s chicharrones. She knew three-day leftovers was pushing it. 

Luke seemed to light up, immediately setting her on edge, sensing where his thoughts may have drifted at that little nugget of info.

She plastered on her fakest smile, gushing, “I’m more than happy with the man in my life - my son, Alex. He’s on the team, I never miss a game. The joys of parenting, am I right?” 

Like clockwork, Luke’s face fell as he gave a non-committal hum, turning to Schneider, no longer paying attention to her.

Mom stuff. Worked every time. Single-guy kryptonite.

..._ Unless you’re Schneider _, she mused silently, remembering the first time they met and he unabashedly hit on her after she had just had Elena. And now, he never seemed to bore of the kids, talking about the kids, spending time with the kids - none of it phased him. He really was the exception to the rule, thankfully.

“--what do you say?” 

Penelope tuned back in, cursing herself for drifting away from the conversation.

She felt Schneider shift uncomfortably next to her.

“Thanks dude, but no thanks. I’m...just out of something and stayin’ away from the scene for awhile.” 

While clearly disappointed, Luke fist-bumped him in the whitest-boy-way possible, “Alright, man, if you say so. Your loss, you know gym bunnies. Let me know if you change your mind. You have my digits. Later!” 

With that, he gave the typical bro-hug-with-accompanying-back-slap before racing up to the ridiculously long line for the expensive garbage the Alvarezes smartly avoided. 

Penelope met Schneider’s eye, who hurriedly snatched up her hand and began leading them back to their seats. She had to practically sprint to keep up with him, taking three steps for every one of his, but she let him pull her along, feeling his sense of urgency to get away. Once upon a time, she would never let him away with such a manoeuvre, but after everything, she figured now she’d give him a pass. It was only as she was unpacking the food, she realised how quiet he had been since they sat back down.

Lowering the tupperware, she leaned into him, looking closer, realising he was staring into space, scarcely blinking. 

“Luke was something, huh?” she asked, hoping to draw his attention, “And gym bunny connected. You sure you don’t wanna take him up on his offer?” 

It wasn’t what she wanted to say to him. She wasn’t even super serious, really, knowing that things were probably still too fresh after Avery. That and...she didn’t think Schneider was the casual sex type of guy, anymore. Hadn’t been for a long, long time now. But it was like she had to make sure. Had to know, hear it from him himself, that that wasn’t what he wanted.

She didn’t let herself analyze too closely why exactly that might be.

_ He’s being a good role-model for the kids,_ she reminded herself silently.

When Schneider continued to stare into the middle-distance, she reached out, waving her hand in front of his face.

“Schneider. Schneider? Earth to bobo, hello?” 

“Wha…yeah?” He shook his head, turning to her.

She swallowed, not really wanting to repeat herself, but forcing it out regardless, “I was saying…that I think you should have taken that Luke guy up on his offer.”

It wasn’t exactly what she said, but he didn’t need to know that.

A deep crevice formed in between his eyebrows as he stared at her, his bright blue eyes shining with confusion.

She ignored the knot tightening in her stomach.

After a second, he scoffed. 

“Lucky Luke McClean? Yeah, no. I’m not taking anything that guy is offering. Drugs, Double Dates, or anything in between.”

Her heart stopped.

“What do you mean drugs, Schneider?! I thought he was an old gym buddy?” 

He held his hands up, quickly continuing, his voice low, “We _ are _ old gym buddies, Pen. Emphasis on ‘old.’ He…got a little pushy on-” he paused glancing around them, lowering his voice even further, “stimulants, and I thank you, nexted my way outta that bro-time pronto.”

Relief flooded through her entire body as she patted his knee, “Good. That’s good, Schneider. Guy seemed like a douche anyway.”

A laugh escaped him as he nodded, “That he is.” 

Several minutes passed as Penelope reflected on the interaction. Schneider had been doing so well after everything with his relapse, and Avery, maybe a date or two, something small and simple, could be just what he needed to ease him back in.

Her gut didn’t seem to agree with her, however.

But, she was his best friend, she had to be encouraging, “Still think it might be time for you to get back out there, though,” she said quietly, not sure if she believed her own words, but counteracting with what she said next, something wholly true - “The world’s missing out.”

She watched as Alex stepped up to the plate, pointedly turning her head from Schneider as he digested her words and leaping up, whooping alongside her mother and Elena, so proud that her boy was back after his arm injury.

Schneider was only a beat behind them, on his feet and hollering, “GO ALVAREZ!” at the top of his lungs.

She smiled.

God, she loved baseball.

~*~

“Dale, papito, dale!”

Their chant had continued all the way from the game, to the car, to their front door. Lydia had lead a make-shift conga line, followed by Alex, Elena, Penelope and Schneider - they all shuffling into the apartment with a bounce in their step.

“Victory lap!” Lydia sang, forming the line again and beginning to dance-walk them around the couch.

Penelope had smiled in amusement when they had first started in the parking lot, all faux-reluctance before Elena grabbed her hands and put them on her waist. 

“Schneider, get the rear!” the teen had instructed like a rally cry.

A voice cleared over Penelope’s shoulder, and before either of them could second-guess themselves, (which would be ridiculous, they were celebrating for god’s sake, nothing else), she reached behind her without looking and grabbed his hands in a similar fashion, lightly placing them on her waist before putting her own back where they had been on Elena. 

Schneider had _ big _ hands.

It was something that Penelope had always known, in that peripheral way you know something like if someone is blond or brunet, or if they have blue or brown eyes. She had held his hand and had hugged and been hugged by him enough times over the years to recall how they lay across the expanse of her back or draped over her knuckles. She knew; of course she did.

But she never truly _ felt _ just how big they were, until his fingers gripped her hips.

He had always kept them at a respectable position on her back whenever they hugged, on her shoulders whenever he led her to the couch. They had never drifted lower before.

A surge of warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach.

_ Nope. No. Not happening. _

_ God _ , _ she needed to get laid. _ That was all. Schneider just so happened to be the first man to touch her in any capacity in a long, long time and her body was just reacting in the worst possible way. 

Hell, it could be Dr. Berkowitz touching her and—

_ Nope! _

She gave a mental shudder. Absolutely no way her body would react like this if the doc touched her. 

_ Ew. _Her brain added in a voice reminiscent of Lori’s. She did miss that walking disaster sometimes. 

"Dale, papito, dale," Schneider was mumbling gently behind her, not as jubilantly as the others, but with a noticeable hint of pride that had her heart soaring. 

_ He should be proud _ , Penelope mused to herself just as they took their last few steps on the victory lap, _ he helped Alex get here. _

They came to a halt at the kitchen table, where Lydia turned and threw her arms around her grandson, hugging him tightly. 

“Felicidades, mi amor!”

Elena reached up and ruffled his hair, as Penelope took a step forward to kiss him on the cheek. She felt Schneider’s hands fall from her hips and awkwardly quashed the weird jolt that shot through her at the loss as he leaned over her and fist bumped Alex. 

“Proud of ya, kid.”

Alex’s eyes lit up, and it hit Penelope all over again, just how much Schneider and his influence affected her children. Warmth spread through her as he quietly replied, more sincere than anyone had heard him be in a long time, “Thanks, Schneider.”

She had to move away from the moment, squeezing her son’s arm as she made her way to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Who’s for take out?"

It was a special occasion, after all.

It was later, after finishing the cinematic masterpiece that was_ A League Of Their Own _, (Schneider loving it, just as she predicted) and nursing a glass of red wine and cherry coke respectively, that a nagging voice that sounded awfully like her mother began to pipe up as one of those cheesy dating app commercials came on.

_ Poor eSchneider is heart-sick. A nice date with Marisol’s Carmelita may be just what he needs but you talked him out of dating! What about my bouquet list, Lupita? _

It wasn’t her imagination that summoned this voice, however. It was her memory, as Lydia had said precisely that phrase a multitude of times that week, no matter how many ways Penelope tried to talk her out of it. 

The woman was on a mission, determined to bombard Schneider at any given moment with a list of _ nice, Latina women _for him to woo with his weird, Canadian-American charm. 

“Have you thought about it?”

The words were barely more than a murmur, half-pressed into her wine glass as she took a sip, bringing back up the topic that they let drop at the baseball game. As she watched him take a sip of his own soda, she was again overwhelmed with a feeling of pride. She was just so damn _ proud _ of him. He had come such a long way these last few months, now back at ease with others drinking alcohol in a way that she knew was not easy. 

There was a comfort between them, too. An understanding now that came with two friends who had come through a serious situation together and were now at the other side. 

Penelope felt like it could almost be her dream that she had had on the morning of her wedding anniversary. 

“Dating again?” He asked, staring down into his glass as the commercial finally ended and moved on to selling something called a Booty Pop.

She nodded, taking another sip. 

His gaze seemed to line her face for a moment, before he shook himself, heaving a sigh, raking a palm down over his eyes. 

“I mean, I guess? It’s—it’s been over three months since…since Avery. I probably should, right?”

Penelope’s heart leapt into her throat.

_ Be supportive, but not pushy. Don’t be Mami with her list of Latinas. _

“I mean,” she began, shifting on the couch so that she was facing him, “It hasn’t been that long, Schneider. I’ve been in my dry spell a hell of a lot longer, so I ain’t gonna judge.”

He seemed to digest her words for a moment, before reaching out and taking her hand in his, squeezing it gently. 

Dread rose in her throat like bile.

“Dios mio, I swear Schneider, if you even attempt to say, don’t worry, you’ll find some—”

He leaned forward, cutting her off, his eyes sincere. 

“You. Are. A. Badass.”

He punctuated each word with a squeeze, “Not that you need me to tell you that. You—You’re an RN, Pen. Ha!” He paused, snorting, before collecting himself as she tilted her head at him.

“Sorry, that rhyme was unintentional. Where was I? Oh, yeah. You’re an RN, Pen. The best around. You’re a rockstar mom, a delightful daughter and a kickass best friend to one Patrick Dwayne Schneider, a hell of an accomplishment all on its own. And just because Mr Right has been too lost to find you already, doesn’t mean he won’t. Probably when you least expect it. ‘Cause in my experience? Life’s like that. Never a straight line. Curve-ball central.”

She knew she was staring at him, probably with the dumbest expression on her face, but she couldn’t help it. Sometimes, she really felt like she didn’t deserve him. How did she get so lucky to have a best friend like this giant goofball that said the sweetest things?

Curve-ball central was right. 

A silence fell between them, draping them in something more serious than either of them intended. 

“I don’t think Mami would call me ‘delightful’ if my life depended on it,” she forced herself to say, breaking whatever it was. 

He let out a breath, short and hot as he dropped her hand and wiped his palm on his jeans. 

“Yeah, maybe not the best word-choice, but I stand by it.”

She smiled softly, “Thank you, Schneider.”

He nodded, “Any time, Penelope. I got you.”

Another beat of silence passed, Penelope still regarded him in no doubt a dumb way as she berated herself, she was supposed to be making him feel better, not the other way around. It was then that something twigged in the back of her brain, pulling her out of her dwindling thoughts. 

“Your middle name is Dwayne?”

He gasped at her, “That’s what you got from all that?”

“But Patrick Dwayne Schneider? Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously, Ms Penelope Francisca del Carmen—”

“Okay, okay. Point taken.”

They laughed quietly, amused in the way that only their banter ever seemed to cause, before Schneider’s face grew more serious. 

“I just…I really wanna thank you, though, Pen. For everything. Seriously. I know being my best friend isn’t easy, especially lately, but I…I wouldn’t have gotten through everything, falling off the wagon, losing Avery, hell, making it one day at a time, without you. So, thank you. For that,” he finished, his voice soft and his cheeks flushed. 

A sheath of ice slid over her heart as a surge of guilt that she had been steadily ignoring over the last few months ensnared her. 

“Don’t thank me, Schneider. It’s…it’s my fault that Avery left.”

She didn’t even have to think of the words before they left her mouth as they had been, in some way, shape or form, bouncing around in her brain for quite a while now. 

“What?”

She leapt up off the couch, pacing back and forth, words tumbling from her lips almost faster than her heart was racing.

“I can’t believe I messed up your relationship. What, I wasn’t satisfied ruining my own? Who’s next, Elena and Syd? Mami and Dr B and whatever…they have? No one is safe.”

She could feel Schneider’s gaze on her as he leaned forward, “What are you talking about, Pen? You don’t ruin relationships. And you certainly didn’t ruin me and Avery. I did that all on my own. It was only a matter of time.”

His words stopped her dead in her tracks. 

_ No. No, no, no. _

She had been carrying this around for months now. She had to let it out. 

She whirled around, jabbing a finger in his face, “See, no Schneider. That’s where you’re wrong. I—I’m sorry but, I heard what Avery said, that night. All the time you spend with us, our dinners, going to the kids’ things, my late-night house-calls…they all contributed to her feeling like you put us first.”

They monopolized his entire life. Mami, Elena, Alex, and her most of all, if she was being honest. He didn’t have much of a life outside of the Alvarezes and their antics and it ultimately cost him his relationship. And she still couldn’t find it in herself to rely on him less. 

He drove her to group now. Watched movies with her. Went to baseball games with her. He was her confidant and shoulder to cry on and hell, even in her _ dreams _ he—

“I _ do _ put you first,” his voice broke through her rapid reverie, plummeting her heart into her stomach. 

“But you shouldn’t, Schneider! You’re not their dad and you’re not my husband!”

She clapped a hand over her mouth, a stabbing pain in her chest. She didn’t mean to say it like that, for it to come out so...harsh. She could barely stand to look at him, but forced herself too. And immediately regretted it. 

It was a quick flash, but enough for her to see the pain, hurt, shining in his dark blue eyes. She wanted to wrench the words back and shove them down her throat so she could choke on them. She never, _ never _ wanted to be the cause of the look he was giving her now. 

But she was.

“You’re right. I’m...I’m not the kids’ dad,” he spoke, his voice raw, “Or—your husband.”

Penelope’s stomach twisted with nausea, the knot tightening and tightening as she watched him stand up, closer to her than she realised. She held her breath as his eyes caught hers, they brighter than she had ever seen them. 

“So, I guess, if that’s the only way, I’ll never be an Alvarez then, huh?”

Her mouth dropped open. She held up her hands, shaking her head vigorously.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I…”

“No, Pen.”

He turned away from her.

_ Shit! No, no, please— _

“It is what you meant. You—you made it clear that I’ll never be an Alvarez. Not really. No matter what your mom says. Whatever chance I may have had once, I’ve blown this last year. I’ve disappointed you too much. First with the condos, then with letting your son find me stupid-ass drunk in the laundry room. I get it. I—I’ll back off. No more overstepping. It’ll be strictly family-friend Schneider from now on. No more co-parenting. It clearly wasn’t ever really that anyway.”

Her heart stopped. Dozens upon dozens of words clogging her brain that tripped her up as she desperately tried to formulate some sort of response. 

_ Think, Alvarez! Say something! _

“I’m gonna head out.”

“Schneider—”she reached out to him, but couldn’t bring herself to touch him as he put his glass down, the clang of it ringing throughout the apartment.

She watched, mute, as he turned from her, storming to the door, reaching out to open it.

_ Wait! Please don’t go. I’m sorry. Fuck. _

“I had to stop myself knocking on your door six different times.”

Those were not the words she intended to say. It got him to halt all the same. He didn’t turn around, though. 

She tentatively stepped closer to him, her mind whirling a mile a minute as she frantically tried to explain herself, make him see, that it wasn’t him that was at fault. She was the one to blame. She was the one that ruined things for him, her friendship, all of it.

Word poured from the depths of her, busting from the dam of guilt she had built for months now.

“Six different times, all hours of the morning, I found myself pacing outside your apartment, wanting to knock but knowing that Avery was there. I didn’t—you were in a relationship, Schneider. And I…I felt like I couldn’t, shouldn’t, call you so much. Rely on you for so much. But I still invited you to dinner and texted you dumb pictures and—and when you couldn’t be there, were on a date, or busy with Avery I felt…lost. And I hated myself for it.”

She took a deep breath, shuffling a little closer, trying to psych herself up to say what she had to say next, willing for her tears to remain unshed. 

“You’ve…you’ve been this…constant in my life and I’ve…I’ve taken you for granted, Schneider. I got so used to you always be there for the kids, for Mami, for me but I knew I had to back off. For the sake of your relationship. I—I know what people think…about us…sometimes. How it can look. I didn’t want to jeopardise what you and Avery had so…I took a step back. But somehow, I still managed to screw things up for you. Because that’s what I do.”

Her breath hitched, as she felt more words rise up her throat. Words that scared her, terrified her in their truth. Words that she probably shouldn’t allow escape but had built up the momentum now, felt like she would burst at the seams if she didn’t let them out soon, even if she didn’t fully understand them herself. 

Tears pricked the edges of her eyes as she admitted quietly to the floor, “You’re my best friend, Schneider, but sometimes? Sometimes you’re so much more. And that…scares me.”

_ More _ didn’t even begin to describe it, really. It was a vague word, no where near adequate enough to fully encapsulate all that Patrick _ Dwayne _ Schneider was to her family, to her. It was a confusing word, in that it seemed to suggest something else, something different, something that Penelope knew eluded her at times. It was evasive and unrelenting, but nonetheless true. 

So she told him. 

She stood there, an absolute mess, inside and out, and told him something that she shouldn’t have. Something that she didn’t fully understand herself. Something that had the power to potentially irreparably change their dynamic, forever. And there was no taking it back now. 

_ You’re a fucking idiot, Alvarez. _

“More?”

His voice sounded so unlike his own. Dry and cracked and fraying at the edges. 

He finally turned around, eyes shining with more emotion that she had seen in a long time, they darting over her face as if searching for something. 

Seconds ticked by as she fought to control her breathing, her heart a crescendo in her chest cavity as he tilted his head and opened his mouth, asking the question that she knew he would, but hoped he wouldn’t. 

“More _ how _, Penelope?”

It shouldn’t have thrown her as much as it did. 

And yet.

“I…” she scrambled for something, anything to say that wasn’t...too much. But still enough. 

Something both of them could accept without their worlds ending. 

The truth, as plain as she could make it. 

She took one last step toward him, forcing herself to meet his gaze, hating the solitary tear that rolled down her cheek as she clenched her jaw to admit:

“I don’t know, Schneider. Just...more. More than a landlord. More than a neighbour. More than a best friend. More. And—and I don’t know if it’s a bad thing, or not.”

He looked gobsmacked at that. As if she just admitted she was secretly a spy assigned to assassinate him but decided not to at the last minute. 

He took a step forward too. 

“I...I don’t know either.”

They stared at one another, both lost for words. 

“Mom! Tell Alex that I’m not giving him a ride to Jason’s,” Elena’s voice suddenly wafted into the room as she and her brother burst in the front door, and in turn burst the bubble that Penelope and Schneider had been in. 

Schneider cleared his throat, taking a step back, rubbing his neck. 

“I’ll uh...let you do your mom thing. See ya later, Alvarezes.”

He made a hasty exit, throwing a half wave over his shoulder and brushing past the kids with a small smile. 

Penelope stared at his back as he retreated, an overwhelming feeling of deja vu washing over her as the door closed with a snap. 

He didn’t look back this time either. 

**Author's Note:**

> Think there’s 1-2 parts left to this. Watch this space! Would love to know what you think :)


End file.
